They are all here. Every single Reaper, whore, and old lady, and I am overwhelmed by their support.
I notice Blade holding Delilah close to him, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, her expression of contentment like a knife to my heart.
Ashton is in much the same pose with Ryder. Snake, and Bonnie, Lou, and Brewer all the same. Flash is teasing Jennifer, and Lucy is gazing at Jet with an unusually bright smile.
I love them all. The establishment, if you like, the main characters. Then there are the ones who make up the supporting cast. The whores, the single Reapers and those who drift in and out, and speaking of two of them, I’m honored that Summer and Tyson made it back in time from her tour.
She calls for everyone’s attention by strumming her guitar, and as her beautiful, soulful voice rings out, all of our attention is now firmly on her.
She is the number one country singer in the world right now and yet still manages to remain a Reaper. Tyson heads off with her when she’s on tour. When she’s not, they live here in a house on the grounds, while he joins the Reapers and rides out on missions.
This family may be fucked up, but it’s the best one there is, and as the party gets underway, I wish like hell I was staying.
* * *
A few hourslater and several cocktails down, I say my goodbyes and head out with Razor, the lump in my throat a permanent feature it seems. We walk into the night, the silence in direct contrast to the noise from the bar, and as we reach the crossroads between the two blocks, I don’t think I can do this.
The tears fall as he grips my hand and pulls me in close; a thousand words in the embrace, none of them spoken.
This is goodbye.
I already told him I couldn’t bear to stay with him tonight, knowing it was our final one. He respected my wishes, but I’m already second-guessing them. I want to be with him so badly, but I must prepare myself for sleeping alone.
“I don’t want you to go, Sunday.”
His low voice is edged with desolation, and it tears at my heart a million times over.
“Then ask me to stay, Razor. Tell me you want this—want more.”
He inhales sharply. “I can’t give you what you deserve, Sunday. I’m sorry, it’s for the best.”
He may as well have stabbed me in the heart as a goodbye gift, and I nod, clutching the jacket around me, stepping away.
“Then this is goodbye.”
His arms fall to his side, and I swear his eyes fill with tears, but one blink and they are gone. Mine not so fast.
“Thank you, Razor, for everything.”
My voice sounds pitiful. Why the fuck am I thanking him? I want to scream at him, drag emotion from inside him. Not this polite goodbye as if we are strangers.
He nods. “You have my number. I’ll always be here for you, darlin’.”
“I know.”
I blow out a breath, hating every minute of this.
“So, I guess this is it. The final curtain on our show.”
I make light of the situation, but inside my heart is breaking.
“I guess.”
I half-turn, hoping he wakes up and begs me to stay, but he says nothing. He always does, and as I walk away from him, I don’t look back. I can’t look back. I won’t look back because if I do, I’m liable to break.
CHAPTER 39
RAZOR